Quite Princely
by Aaron D
Summary: Jean attempts to find love, while others have unrelated problems...


Quite Princely  
  
by Aaron D. Roberts  
  


* * *

  


Jean ducked, barely dodging the hurled crockery which was aimed directly at his face. 

"AAIIIIEEEE!" his sister screeched. She glanced hurriedly around, no doubt hoping to find more ammunition with which to scar her loving brother's visage. 

"Oh, my wise and loving sister," Jean pleaded. "I do not know what I have done to enrage you so, but--" 

"You don't know!" she screamed, her voice reaching new heights undreamed of by human composers. "_YOU DON'T KNOW!!!!_" Grasping Jean's prized lyre in her enraged arms, she let it fly, heedless of her brother's beggings to the contrary. 

Jean leapt forward, saving the harp by catching it in his green hands, but brutally smacking his royal body upon the polished stone floor. 

"Those friends of yours are even more worthless than you are! They caused almost four thousand zenny's worth of damage to our marketplace! The shopowners are furious, and do you know who has to deal with them?" 

"You do, of course," Jean croaked, twitching on the ground. 

"Of course," she mimicked. "Because you made me Queen-in-Waiting, a job which I have yet to thank you for properly, _I_ have to placate those irate merchants, who, by the way, are threatening to withdraw from SimaFort if they don't get reparations from the government!" She stormed around Jean's quarters, looking for something else to throw. 

"So," she continued, finding nothing, "not only is the damage your fault, the fact that it's my job to deal with this is your fault! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!!" 

"But, Petape," he groaned, still lying on the floor, "remember, they did save our kingdom..." 

Jean was, of course, referring to the time when Ryu, along with his companions, exposed the impostor who was posing as the Prince, and dealt with him accordingly, once it was discovered he was a monster in disguise. 

Petape stopped pacing the room and sighed. "You're right, Jean. It's just that this is such a debacle. I just...oh..." She began sniffling. 

"Oh, my sister," Jean said comfortingly, standing up and placing his arm around her shoulder. "The stars are always saddened when you cry." The frog prince knew that these sorts of honeyed, poetic statements always worked wonders with women, particularly his sister. 

"Jean, I'm such a beast. I know we owe a great deal to them..." 

"Hush. Things will work out, _non_? I have a song for you." And with this, Jean opened his mouth, ready to croon his latest composition. 

"_Oh, the wonders of the trees  
And the clearness of the sky  
Could never compare  
to the beauty I see  
When I look---_"  


"You're right, Jean," his sister said hurriedly. "Things will work out, won't they? See you later." Disengaging herself from her brother, Petape flounced out of the room urgently. 

Jean grinned. Despite his own love for works of music, he knew that others did not always share in his sentiments. In fact, he had no recollection of ever finishing a song when others were about. This had been his plan when beginning to sing, naturally. Still, it distressed him somewhat that his friends and relations did not seem quite as appreciative of the arts as he, Jean, was. Looking at all the possibilities, Jean had come to the conclusion that no one was quite as well-versed in the mastery of songwriting or painting as he because they did not have his royal upbringing. However, the obvious exceptions to this hypothesis would be his father and sister, who still did not show a great deal of love for his work. Jean was still puzzling that snag out. 

However, in regards to the current problem with his sister, Jean had no questions whatsoever. He had dealt with her moods several times in the past, and when she came to this point, there was only one thing a sane amphibious prince could do: leave. 

After laying his lyre carefully back onto its stand, Jean rummaged through his chests of drawers, finding a few extra changes of clothing. Then, he silently (well, silently for Jean) crept down to the kitchens and acquired three or four days' rations for travel. Slipping a note explaining his departure underneath the door to Ryu and Katt's guest room, he went to the pier, and, calling up his inner reserves of energy, transformed into his larger form. He set out for the shore of Lake SimaFort, with no specific destination in mind. He would figure that part out later. 

*** 

Bleu flinched as another scream pierced the stone room. "Any luck yet?" she asked the shadow at the door. 

"Nothin'," the other replied. "She keeps goin' on about Ryu, and she ain't talkin' about anything else." 

"This is really trying my nerves," the sorceress commented. "I realize why she won't give it up, but---" 

"I know." 

"What we're doing is cruel, but far crueler still to chain Ryu to one he doesn't love." Bleu grinned. "Besides, now I might even get a chance to find his 'cycle focus'. Heh." She twirled about, wrapping her arms around her torso. "Oh, Ryu!.." She puckered up her lips. 

"Dude," the other interjected. "That's gross. He's my _brother_, fer cryin' out loud!" 

"Come on now, Patty," Bleu chided. "Didn't you find him attractive before you knew? Those bulging biceps, broad shoulders, his ruffled hair..." 

"Ye--I mean, NO!!" Patty said, flushing. "I mean, sure, I saw it, but there was nothin' there. Besides, our family's screwed-up enough as it is: we thought our mom was dead for thirteen years, then it turns out she wasn't, but she died again anyway, my dad's a sex-obsessed priest who's currently locked into a life-drainin' machine, and my brother's the one man who was destined to destroy a demon that wanted to kill us all. One more thing---we're all part dragon, too." 

"Oh, mistress?" A spectral minion peeked its head 'round the door. 

"Yes, Liquid?" 

"The princess's condition seems to be worsening. Perhaps you should attempt the mind-filter now." The spirit performed a substanceless bow, then departed. 

Patty pursed her lips. "What's a mind-filter?" 

"It's a spell," Bleu said simply. "One that is designed to change the patterns of a person's brain. It's crude magic, and easily cast, but rarely performed because of the possible consequences. Once a subject has been mind-filtered, his fundamental personality is changed forever." 

Bleu gathered herself and slithered toward the portal. "I only wanted to use this as a last resort, but Nina shows no sign of regaining her mental capacity. Actually, she seems to be worsening as time goes on." Patty followed the sorceress to the chamber where Nina lay chained. 

The princess of Wyndia struggled futilely against her bonds, magically-reinforced links of iron sealed to the stone floor. Gibbering incoherent spouts of nonsense, she pulled again and again at the chains. 

"Nina's new personality can't be worse than the old one," Patty remarked. 

"Indeed," agreed Bleu, lifting her hands. Patty could feel a tang in the air, and knew Bleu was beginning her magical weave. "I'm going to filter out Ryu from her consciousness. If they meet again, she'll think she recognizes him, but won't be able to place where she recalls him from." 

Though the young thief could feel the intense magical energy Bleu was channeling, probably due to her dragon blood, she could otherwise sense nothing. Abruptly, the Wyndian collapsed, slumping to the ground in a faint, and the sorceress faltered as well. Bleu was the more quick to recover. 

"I think I've done it," said Bleu. "Now we just have to wait until she awakens." 

*** 

The sun shined down beatifically on Jean's wet skin as he emerged, in his natural form, from Lake SimaFort. He shook, displacing some of the water that was still on his body. Jean had been doing some thinking on his swim, and now, he was fairly sure as to what he was going to do with his wealth of free time. 

Seeing his friends Ryu and Katt revel in their newfound affection, Jean had found a void in himself, one that he had become determined to fill. How many times had he written verse of love, and yet had not truly experienced its tart sweetness? 

Far too often, Jean thought as he walked up the bank. But now, he was going to rectify that. Jean was a man's man, he was, and as of this moment, he wasn't going to hold back anymore. 

As the young prince started up the road to Witch's Tower, he noticed the great beauty that was present in the day. Truly a wonderful time to travel. Unfortunately, as happened so often in Jean's mournful-yet-so-happy existence, something began to mar it. 

Jean didn't notice the catfish until it was nearly upon him. These four-legged, amphibious monsters were not truly catfish, but they were all to common around Jean's peaceful home. Many times they had tried to attack his castle, only to be repelled by the valiant warriors therein. 

"_Bonsoir, Monsieur_ Catfish," Jean greeted. "How are you this fine day?" 

The catfish hissed angrily. 

"Indeed, it is beautiful," Jean agreed. "Would you care to share my lunch? I have a fine batch of worms in my backpack, if you so desire." Jean reached around his shoulder and into his pack. He couldn't quite locate the package he was looking for. 

The catfish hissed again, its scales bristling. 

"Oh," Jean said regretfully, "I do not seem to be able to reach it. If you will give me a couple of moments, _sil vous plait_..." 

The catfish, angered at this strange frog, had no intention of waiting. It charged Jean with all its might. 

"I see," Jean replied, stepping aside from the monster's charge. "I do not suppose you will let me pass unmolested?" 

The next hiss was definitively negative. 

"Oh well," sighed Jean, punching the catfish in its protruding snout. "_Asi es la vida_. 

"Wait," Jean interrupted himself, drawing his rapier. "I mean, '_C'est la vie_'." 

The catfish, which didn't really care in which language Jean was speaking, attempted to grab Jean's left hand in his gaping jaws. The prince whipped his hand out of reach and plunged his rapier into the fish's scaled torso. While this type of monster's scales might be tough enough to repel and edged weapon's slashing strike, it was not nearly strong enough to withstand the rapier's skewering power. The fish slumped on Jean's sword, its heart pierced by his aim. 

Sorrowful for the loss of life, the young prince moved onward, knowing himself to be near to his goal. "Nimufu," he whispered, "you will be mine!" 

*** 

Ryu awoke. The room was quite dark, that much was certain. It was also strange. Ryu stretched out his body, and it seemed to him as if he had much more of a sense of himself than ever before. Still not sure if he wanted more sleep or not, he attempted to roll over. Something was impeding his progress. He tried again, with no better results. 

"Are you awake?" a feminine voice asked him. 

"Yeah," he responded. "Why can't I move?" 

"Oh, sorry. I'll take care of it in a jif." He heard a metal clank around his ankles, then another one around each of his wrists. 

Freed of his bondage, Ryu stood up. He was flanked on each of his sides by two people he did not recognize. "Okay," he began, "I don't know why I'm here, but if you don't tell me what's going on, I'm gonna..." Placing his hand upon the hilt of his blade for emphasis, he came to a shocking realization: The sword wasn't there. 

"Where's my sword?" Ryu demanded. 

"You don't have a sword," the one on the left told him. 

"I _know_," Ryu said, gritting his teeth. "Where is it?" 

"What she's sayin'," put in the other, "is that you don't own a sword at all." 

Ryu blinked. He didn't own a sword? That was nonsense! He hadn't walked around unarmed since he... Since... Well, it had been a long time. 

"I know you're very disoriented right now," the first explained, "but just relax and I'll explain everything." 

Ryu had no intention of relaxing. He swung his fist out at one of his captors, then launched a kick in the opposite direction at the other. Rushing out of the chamber, he snatched up a short sword which he saw lying in one of the numerous heaps of garbage strewn about the hallway. He attempted to twirl the blade around to get a better feel for its weight, which seemed abnormally heavy for such a small sword. To Ryu's surprise, he dropped the sword in mid-twirl, and it fell clanging to the floor. 

"What the---" As Ryu bent down to pick up the fallen weapon, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the ornate, full-length mirror across the hall. Grasping the short sword, he walked closer toward the polished glass surface. Staring, he moved his arms slowly, then blinked his eyes. There was no doubt that it was his own reflection that stared back. 

"By God," he exclaimed, "I've been turned into a woman!" 

*** 

_Oh my love,  
the stars and the moon  
and the flowers and the trees  
and the water of the seas  
_

"Would you get out of here and leave me alone?!" the witch demanded. 

_and the taste of a fly  
goes unnoticed on my tongue  
when I think of your---_  


"STOP IT!!! STOP IT NOW!!!" 

"But my dear one," Jean protested. "I have come to profess my feelings, and I will not be denied." 

Rather than shouting another angry retort, Nimufu began to cry. This took Jean quite aback. However, he was not too disappointed, as this crying marked a new step in his courtship of the witch. She had never done this before, and to Jean, this was definitely a positive step. 

He knew exactly how to handle it. "I have made you cry?" he wailed. "Oh, God on high above, please end my pitiful life on this earth, as I have caused my love such pain!" 

"What must I do?" Jean demanded of the ceiling. "I have given her song, I have given her my gifts of love, yet still she loathes me. Why? Oh, despair!!" 

"Why, indeed?" chorused Nimufu. "Why can't any handsome boys like me? The only thing that loves me is a frog!" 

Jean stopped. "I am not handsome?" He was genuinely confused. "My beauty has been praised by many of my subjects, yet you find me repulsive? _Pourquois_?" 

"What?" 

"Wherefore am I not handsome, lovely one?" 

"Oh, Jean," she moaned. "I'm sure that to your own people, you are handsome beyond belief, but I am not one of your people. I am not even of the same clan. I cannot find you attractive. 

"I tried," she continued. "Back when you first sought me out, I thought of how lucky I was that even one man loved me, no matter how...unusual he was. But there's no---spark. I can't warm myself up to you." 

There was a gleam in Jean's eye. "This, this is no difficulty!" 

"How?" she mourned. 

"You are magi!" Jean exclaimed. "If you are not of my people, simply make me one of yours. You have changed my form before. Simply do it again, _mon chere_." 

"All...alright." Nimufu danced around the rectangular room, singing a chant in her language of magic. Jean noticed how she encircled him in a pentagonal shape. The weave was complete. Jean felt nothing, just as he felt nothing when transforming into his larger form. 

Jean looked at his forearm. Rather than his normal healthy green, he sported a hairy, mammalian flesh tone. He quickly drew it back. The sight of it unnerved him. "Am I handsome now, dear one?" He stopped. His voice sounded terrible. 

"Oooooh, yes!" Nimufu squealed, leaping into his arms with a vigor that would have shamed the highest-jumping member of Jean's clan. She planted her mouth against his. A confused and now greatly-changed frog prince kissed back, unsure of what he was precisely supposed to do at this point. 

*** 

"Oops," Bleu remarked as she and Patty rushed down the hallway. 

"Oops" was quite the understatement, Patty thought as she followed the sorceress's slithering dash. "What'd you do there, exactly?" 

"What I intended to," Bleu answered shortly, "but evidently Nina's new personality isn't quite up to handling the new input it was given. Until we interview her, I couldn't tell you precisely what the problem is." 

"I've got a few ideas what the problem is," Patty commented, rubbing the bruised spot on her left cheek. 

"By God! I've been turned into a woman!" 

The duo halted, finding Nina, short sword in hand, standing before Bleu's antique mirror and staring at her own reflection. From the nature of Nina's outburst, Patty was fairly sure that Bleu's mind-filtering had not had the desired effect, or even close to that. 

Extending her hands in a gesture of non-aggression, the young thief walked slowly up to the confused princess. "Take it easy, Nina, you're gonna be fine---" 

"Nina?" the winged girl replied. "My name's not Nina." 

"What is your name, then?" Bleu inquired. 

"Ryu Bateson," she said dutifully. 

"God dammit!" Patty swore. "She thinks she's my brother. Now what?" 

Bleu pursed her lips together. "It seems that my mind-filtering spell had the opposite of the intended application. I wonder why that was?" 

"I'll 'applicate' you back into the Dark Ages, you old hag!" Patty shouted. "I have much better things to do with my time than to baby-sit some crazy-ass princess who wants to be a dragon!" 

"Really?" Bleu asked. "Like what?" 

Ignoring the sorceress's comments, Patty continued her rant. "Geez, you'd think you'd get a goddamn spell right after 10,000 years! Oh, the wise, old magician, who can do anything..." She stopped. 

Bleu looked at her. "What?" 

"Aren't you a bit sensitive about your age? That's really what I was goin' for, there." 

Bleu chuckled throatily. "Kid, when you've got a bod like mine, you could really care less. I'll bet I look a lot better than you when you reach my age, which, if you care, is 10,243." 

"She does have a really good figure," Nina added. Then, she turned back to the mirror. "But not as good as mine," she finished. 

Patty groaned and slapped herself in the forehead. "I don't know if I can handle this," she lamented. 

Nina, however, was oblivious to the younger woman's problems, and was admiring her reflection steadfastly. "Evan's beard!" she swore. "My tits are _huge_!!" She cupped her ample breasts in her hands. 

Patty cocked an eyebrow at this statement. "I don't think that Ryu would actually say that, do you?" 

Bleu own eyes narrowed. "No," she agreed. "I've never known Ryu to make such statements openly. He has impeccable manners. He wouldn't say that---even if his tits WERE huge." 

"Actually, I was talkin' about the 'Evan's beard' thing. Ryu wouldn't ever swear like that. But that means..." 

"Yes," Bleu finished, grasping the solution. "She doesn't actually have Ryu's memories, she just _thinks_ she does. I didn't screw up half as badly as I thought!" Bleu looked around. "I mean, things went EXACTLY as I had intended. It's just that the magical forces that I was conjuring up didn't do their job properly!" 

"So," Patty began, "can you fix it?" 

"Sure," Bleu affirmed. "But it'll take me a few hours to regain my full strength. We had better lock Nina up again in the meantime. We don't want her accidentally 'discovering' herself or anything." 

"Why not?" Patty thought about it. If she had found herself suddenly in a man's body... 

"Maybe you're right," Bleu allowed. "I'm so used to the concept of transcending gender that it seems commonplace, but it may actually keep her entertained until I'm ready to try the mind-filter again. 

"Oh," she continued, "but keep her in a room or something. I'm going to need my beauty sleep, and she might start making a lot of noise." 

*** 

Jean sighed, looking up at the painstakingly-crafted mosaic that adorned the ceiling of Nimufu's bedchamber. His hands, placed behind his head, ruffled the so-odd hair which he now sported. The young witch snuggled up against his side, sound asleep. Jean's eyes were wide with discovery. 

The things he had experienced! If not for disturbing his slumbering companion, Jean would have leapt to his feet and sang a ballad of such beauty and precision... 

Well, he would do that later. 

At least he had finally accomplished his goal. There were still a few snags to work out, such as how he would change his body back to normal (he still felt uncomfortable in his new 'clothes', as it were), but at this minute the young prince could not be better. He had finally figured out what Sten was talking about all those times they'd gone drinking together. 

Yes, or _Oui_, Jean thought as he relaxed and began to doze off, all was well with the world... 

*** 

"He is dead," remarked the first beginning to feed. 

"He was weak," countermanded the second. "He was _nikanoru_." 

"We are not _nikanoru_," argued the third. "We are strong." 

"Yes," agreed the first. 

The second had no comment as he bled the husk dry and tossed it away. "We will feed again?" 

"Perhaps, when the time is right," said the third. 

"It is not right now," commented the first. 

"What of the others?" asked the second. 

"I do not know," replied the third. 

"We will kill them," said the first. 

"Or not," continued the second, "if they are willing." 

"Indeed," said the third. 

The husk's left arm fell across its face, its innocent eyes looking upon its killers. They cared not. She was _nikanoru_. So were her parents, who had fled the monsters and left their seven-year-old daughter to her fate. So was every living thing which walked the earth---dead. 

FIN


End file.
